Leave the Rest for the Crows
by ArwenLalaith
Summary: Fifteenth Century, Venice. There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold...


**Author's Note:**Written for tfm for the 2010 cm_exchange on LJ, based on her prompt "AU: BAU with a twist, e.g. aliens, robots, zombies." This is the first thing I've written in a _really_long time - due to a struggle with severe depression - so, I hope I haven't lost my touch! PS: If you haven't already, you still have time to follow the link on my profile to submit your ballot, nominating your favorite authors and fics for the 2010 Criminal Minds Fanfic Awards. Come on, people, let's show the Morgan/Prentiss 'ship some love this year!

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A fleeting glance behind her told Emily that the swarm of people in the ballroom were all highly engaged – or at least, pretending to be – in their idle prattle. All of them too busy to notice her slipping away from the soiree.

She snapped a candle off its ornate brass bracket on the wall, lighting her way down the dark passage. The flickering beam cast eerie shadows on the flagstones, but she'd haunted these halls so many times that they no longer caused her to start.

A pair of hands reached out from a shadowed recess and caught her hips. She gasped and, in her surprise, tilted the candle, hot wax spilling over to congeal on her skin.

"When are you going to run away with me?" a low voice murmured in her ear.

"Derek, I've told you a hundred times not to startle me like that!" she snapped, ignoring his question. She twisted out of his reach to glare sternly at him for a moment before turning her attention to peeling the hardening wax off her skin to examine the burns.

"Let me see," he murmured softly, gently taking hold of her wrist. "I think we need to amputate..." he teased, then brought her hand up to his lips, tenderly kissing her wounds.

She let her other arm snake around his neck, moving so that his kisses fell on her lips, rather than her hand. "I love you," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his as they caught their breath.

The low crackling of thunder on the other side of the stone wall brought them out of their reverie. Emily once again glanced to either end of the hall, ensuring they were alone, then wrapped her slender fingers around Derek's wrist, pulling him towards a room she knew would be empty.

This was, for the most part, the entirety of their relationship for the past year – sneaking off in the dead of night for clandestine meetings, secret trysts; their time together spent in doses of fleeting minutes.

"You never answered my question..." he murmured as she once again wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

She looked up at him with sad eyes. "Derek, we've talked about this..."

He shook his head, pressing a finger to her lips to stem the flow of words. "You're my wife – I don't want to have to hide the way I feel about you." He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "We'll leave the country – we can go to France or England, anywhere we can be together."

"But..."

"I won't take no for an answer," he insisted. "We could leave tonight, it would be hours before your mother even knows we're gone."

She studied him for a moment, trying to discern whether he was serious. They had been dancing around the subject more or less since the night they'd secretly gotten married – he'd wanted to leave the country then, but she had insisted that they stay. It wasn't that she didn't want to, it would just be risky... Not to mention that her mother would be absolutely livid when she discovered her missing.

"Soon," she promised. She knew he loved her more than life itself and he'd do anything for her, but she also knew it broke his heart just a little every time she asked to wait just a little while longer.

If she hadn't known him so well, she would have missed the way his expression fell for a moment before he covered it. "You've been saying that for months..." he whispered, "Why can't soon be now?"

She opened her mouth, searching for a way to explain her hesitation, but before she could say anything else, he once again sought out her lips, effectively silencing her.

"You couldn't ask for a more perfect night – the storm will cover our departure and your mother will be pre-occupied all night with her guests, she likely won't question your absence until the next morning." He looked seriously into her eyes, knowing they'd never have a better opportunity. "I can be ready in a half hour – that's enough time for you to pack a few things, we can worry about the rest when we're a safe distance away."

She knew he was right – who knew how long it would be before they had a chance like this again. "Alright," she said breathlessly, gazing deep into his eyes, "We leave tonight."

For a moment, he seemed frozen in disbelief; even after they'd talked about it time and time again, he still seemed stunned that she had finally agreed to run away together. He kissed her again and she could feel his broad grin against her lips.

Then, without another word, he turned and left, the sound of his footfalls against the stone floors echoing back to her as he hurried away. She remained rooted to the spot until she could hear him no longer, rather shocked by her own audacity.

...

Derek stood outside the stables in the pouring rain, watching as Emily's cloaked figure approached, her silhouette illuminated only by the glow flooding out from the ballroom windows, obscured occasionally as the rare form of a dancing couple crossed before them.

She was at his side the next instant, kissing his cheek; she was in a hurry – and with good reason – if they were caught, the punishment would undoubtedly be severe. "I don't think anyone saw," she murmured close to his ear.

He gave her a tight smile, sadness leeching into his gaze. "We can't leave tonight," he said apologetically.

For a moment, she looked at him as though she thought he might be playing a joke on her, but when his expression didn't change from that crestfallen look, she felt her heart drop. "What?" she breathed, "Why not?"

"The moat is flooded from the storm – the water's too high to safely get across." He squeezed her hand in apology. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten your hopes up, I should have known... We'll have to postpone our departure."

For another moment, she stared at him in silence before she seemed to make up her mind about something. She shook her head, a determined look crossing her face – one that he had seen many times before and he knew he wasn't going to like what followed. "Horses can swim," she argued, "The water can't have completely overtaken the channel yet, we can still reach the opposite bank if we leave now."

"Emily, no," he said seriously, "It's too dangerous and I will not risk anything happening to you."

But she was too stubborn to give in so easily. "We can still make it across. You were right – this is the best opportunity we'll have and I do not want to spend another day hiding." She stepped around him into the stable, grabbing her reins off a hook on the wall. Her palomino mare whinnied as she approached, the horse's instincts making her nervous about heading out in the storm.

"The water level is rising quickly and it's flowing fast, we'd be swept away," Derek said, leaving no room for argument. "There will be other chances; I'd rather stay here and pine for you another year than see you get hurt because of me."

She opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted by a clap of thunder as lightening rent the air, casting a momentary glow over the surroundings. Several of the horses neighed in fright, a few rearing back on their hind legs.

For all her efforts to appear fearless, the sudden noise still startled Emily, causing her to flinch. He said nothing, merely wrapping his arms around her, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear until he felt her heartbeat return to normal as it pounded against his chest.

She sighed sadly, making no move to leave his embrace, as good as admitting that the storm had won. "I love you," he whispered and she might have said it back, but it was muffled by his chest and the overpowering noise of the storm which drowned out all but the most insistent sounds.

Suddenly, a scream shredded through the night.

Derek cocked his head to the side, listening for something to follow, but nothing came. "What was that?"

"Probably nothing," Emily shrugged, seeming not to have heard it, "The storm is playing tricks on us."

Again came the sound, louder this time, unmistakable.

He released his grip on her, crossing to exit the stable with purposeful strides. He turned one way, then the other, trying to determine the source of the noise, made all the more difficult by the interference of the howling wind.

He felt Emily's presence behind him, her breath hot on his rain-slicked neck, her body pressed tightly against his back. "Stay behind me," he commanded, no longer solely her husband, but reverting also into soldier mode, charged with protecting her at all costs.

She knew better than to argue when his voice took on that tone, doing as he said. Her gaze caught on an incongruity as she peered over his shoulder. "Something's wrong..." His eyes followed the direction she was pointing towards. "All the lights have gone out in the ballroom."

All the windows appeared to have been blown open by the last gust of wind, some of the panes had even shattered; undoubtedly a wind that powerful had extinguished every candle shedding light on the festivities.

Derek felt Emily's fingers wrapped in a vice grip around his upper arm; he would never think of her as weak and she would never admit to being anything less than wholly self-sufficient, but they both knew that she liked that he could protect her.

He looked into her deep amber eyes, but said nothing – they needed no words to convey that they had to go back and investigate the source of the screams. He gently kissed her forehead, assuring her that she didn't need to worry.

With a tight grip on his hand, following half a step behind him, using his body as cover, Emily let Derek lead her back into the now completely dark ballroom, save the occasional flash of lightening. "What happened?" she whispered in his ear, trying to avoid being overheard as they integrated themselves amongst the crowd.

"I don't know," he admitted, trying to make out what it was the mass of people were focusing on. "It's too dark, I can't see anything." Inhaling deeply, he frowned, the coppery tang of blood biting at his nasal passages; he had enough battle experience to know that that smell only came from an extremely large amount of blood being exposed to the air. "I think someone might be hurt..." he said, purposefully leaving out that it was likely a fatal wound.

A faint yellow glow slowly bathed the room as the servants moved along the walls, relighting the extinguished candles. Emily stopped a young blonde girl as she moved past to reach the nearest candelabra; she whipped around as if startled – no doubt spooked by the mysterious happenings.

"Miss Emily," she said apologetically, "I'm sorry, ma'am, you startled me is all..."

"Jennifer, please," Emily soothed, keeping her voice low, "I've told you to just call me Emily." Jennifer smiled sheepishly. "Do you know what happened?"

Jennifer looked at her curiously for a moment before shaking her head slowly. "No, ma'am. I was in the kitchen when it happened. All I know is that there was a mighty crash as the windows flung open and all the lights blew out. There was a lot of confusion as people fumbled around in the dark and then I heard the screams... We've been trying to restore order ever since," she explained. Pausing for a moment, she looked quizzically at the pair. "Weren't you here?" she asked after a moment.

"Miss Prentiss wanted to get some fresh air – we were out on the balcony," Derek lied convincingly and without hesitation, using the formality of one employed by the family with little familiarity with his charge.

"Oh..." Jennifer said slowly. Her expression remained ambiguous and it was unclear whether or not she believed them, but she knew better than to question her superior. "That explains why you're both wet..."

Emily nodded once and let the girl go, before sharing a confused and curious look with Derek. Once more grabbing hold of her hand, he directed them towards the throng of people gathered, obviously the centre of the action.

The closer they came to the centre of attention, the more chaotic their surroundings became, it seemed. By the time Derek had pushed through to the front of the crowd, most of the guests were in hysterics or nearly so; none more so than Emily's mother, it appeared, who seemed on the verge of faint, unable to stand without General Hotchner's support.

Derek immediately pushed Emily behind him to shield from view the sight before them, wanting to save her the trauma. But she was too curious for her own good and he knew she would attempt to look anyway. He felt her shifting behind him, trying to get an unobstructed view; he did his best to mimic her movements to continue to block her field of vision, but the sound of her retching once and then burying her face in his shoulder made it clear that he had failed.

General Hotchner had all the bystanders pushed back, so they could confer about the situation. "Dr. Reid, what are your findings?" he asked the spindly man who had been crouched over the body.

The doctor straightened, wiping the blood on his hands off on his pants. "Stabbed repeatedly with a smooth-edged blade. All the major organs appear to be unharmed. She died of blood loss from the abdominal aorta."

"All the organs were unharmed?" Derek frowned, "Could that be purely coincidental?"

"Unlikely," Dr. Reid said without hesitation. Derek shot him a rather frosty glare, not particularly appreciating being shown up by a greenhorn, "It would require years of practice and advanced anatomical knowledge. Not to mention that, in order to complete such delicate work without light in such a short period of time, the killer would have had to rehearse and carefully plan the attack.

Just as General Hotchner opened his mouth to speak, a haunting cackling as could only be made by a man of pure evil diffused about the room.

Everyone instinctively tensed – Derek could once again feel Emily's nails digging into his arm.

"I see you've found my little gift..." a voice declared once the laughter had died down, "I hope it didn't put a damper on the festivities."

"Who are you?" the General demanded with all the authority of one who commanded thousands of soliders in battle. "Show yourself!"

"Down, Aaron," the disembodied voice said as if controlling a large and unruly dog, "If we want any barking out of you, we'll rattle your chain." The insinuation of his servitude didn't go unmissed. "Elizabeth and I are speaking."

"If you wish to speak with me, you'll do it face-to-face, not while you hide away like a coward," Elizabeth said leaving no room for argument.

There came a noise of disappointed clucking as one might make towards a child. "That's no way for a lady to speak." He continued on with his diatribe unfazed, "She will be the first of many, unless you give me what I want. One guest per hour shall die unless you return what is rightfully mine. You know you did not win it fairly, Elizabeth. Return it to me and I will never bother you again. Make no mistake, I do not threaten idly. Return the amulet.

And, just as suddenly and mysteriously as it had started, the voice was gone, Gereral Hotchner's repeated demands for further communication going unanswered. The silence left in its wake was harsh and awkward.

Everyone turned to look at Elizabeth questioningly, though the guests tried to seem as if they weren't.

She sighed heavily and began pacing as she relayed the tale. "Years ago, long before Emily's birth, our house was embroiled in a bitter feud with the ruling clan of a distant city state. It brewed beneath the surface for generations such that no one living today even remembers how it began. Then, one day, when the heir to the empire was visiting Venice, he met an untimely death. It was purely coincidental, but that naturally lead to them accusing us of manufacturing his demise while he was within our borders. Furthermore, they accused us of taking a priceless amulet that they say he was in possession of, when it in fact belonged to us first and was taken under false pretenses. Determined to avenge this slight, they marched for days and we rode out to meet them. We were vastly superior in numbers and armaments and they met a crushing defeat for which they have never forgiven us."

"Well, he seems quite convinced that..." General Hotchner started to say, but Elizabeth would have none of it.

"Are you suggesting that I am a liar, General Hotchner?" she asked dangerously, "Need I remind you for whom you work, who pays your salary?"

He pursed his lips, obviously displeased with being spoken to in such a way. "No, Madam Prentiss, I was just suggesting that perhaps the lives at stake here outweigh..."

"I will not reward such behaviour by bowing to his demands," she said flatly

Emily rolled her eyes and sighed when her mother stubbornly refused to give up the amulet, though she had expected nothing else. Nonetheless, she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach as if something very bad was on the verge of happening. Her grip on Derek's hand unconsciously tightened. "Mother, please," she began irritatedly, "This man is obviously serious about his threat. We do not have any use for that amulet...just let him have it."

Elizabeth, obviously annoyed by her daughter's comment, shot her a look, reminding her to mind her place. "Emily, hold your tongue," she snapped. The two women glared bitterly at each other; Emily hated being told what to do, Elizabeth hated when things didn't go her way.

General Hotchner spoke with Derek, trying to decide on the best course of action; soldiers had already been sent on thorough search of the castle to find the man making the threats. Derek kept Emily close to him, knowing that she felt safer at his side and, truth be told, he preferred it that way – he only trusted himself to protect her.

"No one can leave the castle," Derek warned, when the General proposed that the castle be evacuated. "The moat is flooded. We're stuck here – whoever this man is, he must have been planning this for a long time."

The General was silent, considering his options, exuding an air somewhere between anger and indecision. Finally, he decided that the best thing to do was to usher the guests into the main dining hall and bring in more security to protect them. After having worked with Elizabeth Prentiss for years, he knew asking her to give up the amulet was akin to asking anyone else to give up their own heart – she hated being threatened and she _hated_ losing...giving up the amulet would be a sign of defeat in her eyes. He decided that instead of focusing on getting the amulet, they should focus on finding the man behind all this.

He tried to convince Derek to leave Emily with the other guests and her mother, but he flat-out refused. After Emily insisted that she didn't _want_ to stay behind, he relented and reluctantly agreed to let her follow them as they investigated.

Before they could take their leave and enter the foyer, the doors slammed shut with a loud thud as if on their on accord. "Did you not think I was serious?" the voice demanded, "Did you think this is a game?" Almost immediately, Derek pushed Emily behind him, shielding her from the imagined threat of the voice and whatever its source might be.

"I said, I want the amulet!" the voice boomed again. "Elizabeth Prentiss, I will have it back. It belonged to my family in the first place! You _stole_ it!"

"We will not be swayed by trickery and ghost stories," she replied flatly, remaining steadfastly determined not to give in, "We possess nothing that is not rightfully ours. Ours is not a family of thieves, sneaks, and liars."

"Are you _sure_ of that?" the voice asked with something approaching glee, as if having hoped the conversation would take this direction, "Are you _absolutely_ sure?"

"Yes," she answered without a hint of doubt or hesitation in her voice.

"Then this may come as a bit of a shock to you..." the voice practically trilled, "Perhaps you should sit down before your heart gives out."

There was a moment of silence and every soul in the room was waiting for the voice to reveal any secrets Prentiss clan might be hiding. "You will regret this, Elizabeth," the voice laughed heartily. "Your beloved daughter, Emily – the one you were going to use to strengthen whatever ties you hold with you with other countries – is having an affair with her guard, Lieutenant Derek Morgan."

"Nonsense," she snapped, replying without any hesitation, "She would never do that."

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Everyone in the room could hear the smirk in the voice as their eyes focused on Emily and Derek.

The two exchanged a glance before turning back to the hundreds of pairs of eyes staring them down, not least of which was Elizabeth's cold glare, and Emily decided their only option was to lie through her teeth. "That isn't true. You cannot possibly believe someone who claims to have murdered someone, someone who admits to being out for revenge against us."

For a moment, her mother seemed to believe her...at least, until the voice made a disappointed sound. "Do not lie, Emily, you were brought up better than that. Own up to the father of your bastard child..."

"That's not true!" she insisted, making one last attempt to deny everything that he had said.

"Perhaps Doctor Reid could verify..."

Emily bit her lip, not knowing what to say. She turned to Derek and the look in his eyes, the confusion and hurt swimming there, said it all. "You're with child?" he asked quietly.

Once Elizabeth realized it was all true, she grabbed her daughter, looking into her eyes with a cold glare. "He speaks the truth? You had an affair him? He isn't worthy of you, Emily! Have you gone insane?"

Emily glanced between her mother and her husband, debating which situation to deal with first. There was no contest, really – she turned to him with an apologetic look in her eyes, "Derek... I'm sorry I didn't say anything – I just...I couldn't tell you yet."

She then turned to her mother, her tone a complete one-eighty from a moment ago. "Yes, Mother – it's true," she snapped, pulling her arm away from her grasp. "I can see whomever I very well please – you don't run my life."

Derek stood in the same spot, not knowing how to react to the news. He snapped back to his senses when he saw Elizabeth try to grab Emily again. He quickly leapt into action, shielding Emily from her. "Stop it!"

Elizabeth glared at him. "She's my daughter! You have no right to tell me what to do with her."

"And I'm her _husband_. Emily and I have been married by a priest, in the eyes of the church, we are a lawfully wedded couple. She is my wife now and she belongs to _me_. The child she is carrying is mine..." he said in a low and dangerous tone, "You have no rights over her anymore. She's mine."

If looks could kill, Derek and Emily would have been dead a thousand times over. "Emily Anne Prentiss," she rounded her anger on her daughter, "How dare you go behind my back like this? How dare you sink so beneath our level and slum amongst the commoners? General Hotchner, a man appropriate to our status, expressed his interest in your hand years ago – I promised you to him once you came of age, you cannot renege on that promise."

"_I_ never promised anything!" Emily snapped angrily. "I never _once_ showed _any_ interest in him, I do not want him or anyone else who will play into your political schemes! And it is too late for you to do anything about it - our marriage is legal and consummated. I am no longer property of the Prentiss house! I belong to Derek – my husband, a man I love. I will be with him and no one else."

"You insolent child!" Elizabeth then turned to Derek, glaring at him. "You! You fiend – you seduced my daughter and raped her. You left her with no choice."

"I did no such thing!" he growled, glaring at her. "I love Emily and I would never do anything against her will. We're legally married and she gave herself to me on the night of our wedding."

"Nonsense!" she roared, "Emily would never give herself to someone like you. Guards! Take him away!"

"No!" Emily shouted. "It's true. I gave myself to him because I love him – something you, Mother, will never understand! You cannot take me away from my husband!"

"I can do whatever I want, Emily!"

"Stop it! You cannot take her away. It's against the law to take a wife away from her husband against her will." He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her close, looking at everyone in room, daring them to say otherwise. "The only way you can take her away from me is when you put a sword through my heart."

"You cannot marry into this family without my consent," Elizabeth said in a dangerously calm voice, "And I will _never_ give my blessing to this abomination of a so-called marriage! Guards!" she demanded again and this time they succeed in separating the couple. She approached Emily, gripping her chin, forcing her to meet her cold glare. "Emily, I will not let you disgrace our family's name in this way - I will _never_let you bring this abomination of a child into the world. You will have General Hotchner or you will be locked away until you can see reason!"

Emily gasped, fighting against the guards with more intensity "No, Mother, you cannot do this! You have no right!"

Her mother turned to Doctor Reid, "Doctor, you will abort her bastard child."

Derek's heart stopped beating, his blood ran cold and the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Elizabeth Prentiss' order shocked everyone. Derek struggled free from the guards who were too shocked to do anything about it. They knew she was ruthless, but they never thought she would be willing to sacrifice her own grandchild and daughter for her personal agenda.

He drew his sword and approached the woman who had his wife and child's life in her hands. He knew that the General would be ready to protect his charge, but he couldn't care less. He had to get Emily back to his side before her own mother hurt her. As he approached her, he noticed that none of the guards nor the General were doing anything to stop him.

He pointed the sword at Elizabeth Prentiss. "Let. Her. Go..." he hissed.

"No," she spat.

Derek narrowed his eyes and pressed the sword firmly against her neck. "Let her go," he said, staring her down. "Let Emily go. She's my wife, my family – not your property. You cannot tell her what to do and how to live her life."

"I'm her mother!"

"And I am her husband," he repeated seriously. "She has come of age and she has willing given herself to me. She is not yours anymore – she is mine. You have no right to take my lawfully wedded wife from me. I will not repeat myself – you let her go this instant or I'll make sure this sword goes through your heart. If you hurt her, I will make sure that the world knows what you tried to do tonight. I will make sure that your name gets dragged through the mud. The world will know that Elizabeth Prentiss is nothing but a cold-blooded killer, that she was willing to kill her own grandchild and put her daughter's life in danger for her own selfish purposes."

"No one will believe you."

"Are you sure?" he said in a low, dangerous tone, looking Elizabeth straight in her eyes. "I have witnesses. So many pairs of eyes and ears, heard and saw what you tried to do. Word will get out, Elizabeth. The only reason why I have not spilled your blood upon the floor because I don't want to. You are Emily's mother and she would not be here if not for you, but I will not hesitate to put you out of her life forever if you hurt her." Blood slowly trickled down the sword when he pressed the blade against her neck, pressing into the soft skin of her neck. "Let my wife go..."

Emily managed to struggle free and ran back into Derek's embrace. "Seize them!" Elizabeth roared when he removed his sword from her neck, but no one made any move to take the couple down. "I said, seize them! What are you waiting for?"

The voice laughed, clearly enjoying the show. "Can't you see, Elizabeth? Your subjects have lost all the respect they had for you when you were ready to sacrifice your own family for yourself. No one is on your side, Elizabeth, not even your daughter...you tried to kill her unborn child. She hates you more than ever now," he laughed. "This is better than I expected..."

There was a moment of confusion in the ensuing silence as the General shepherded the guests out of the room, but for Emily and Derek, the world seemed to stand still as they stared deeply into each others' eyes, hurt bleeding out of Derek's expression.

Before he could speak, she rushed to fill the silence, "Derek, I'm _so_ sorry! I..."

He shook his head. "Why didn't you say anything? It's _my_ child – don't you trust me?"

"Of course, I trust you," she insisted, desperately trying to make him see, "But you sacrifice everything for me – promotions, prestige, money – and I knew this would be no different; you'd drop everything for a child..."

"Of course, I would," he replied, obviously wounded. "Emily, we talked about this – we knew our child wouldn't be safe here, your mother proved that. What if she hadn't listened? What if she'd insisted on Dr. Reid completing the abortion? I almost lost both of you because you said nothing!"

"I'm sorry, I really am!" she said, fighting not to cry, "But this is why I agreed to leave tonight, so we could start a new life for our child. I had no idea the moat would prevent us from leaving..."

Derek sighed heavily, seeing the tears sparkling in her eyes. "I know you meant well," he said quietly, "But it shouldn't have had to come to this, you should have told me immediately when you knew. We could have been long gone by now..."

"I know..." she whispered, not meeting his gaze, "It was a mistake, but I was sacred. I had thought we'd be living somewhere safe by the time I was with child – I didn't know if we were ready or what we'd do."

Derek saw something rare on her face – full, unadulterated fear and he knew he couldn't be angry or upset with her. Gently, he folded her into his arms. "Shh," he soothed, "We'll get through this, we'll figure out something. I promise with my dying breath to keep you and our child safe."

She nodded, sniffling softly. "I love you," she murmured, the words mufffled against his chest.

He gently tilted her head up, about to capture her lips in a tender loving kiss, but before their lips could meet, General Hotchner returned, snapping his fingers to attract their attention. "Lieutenant, we've got work to do!"

Giving her an apologetic smile, Derek tugged gently on Emily's hand, leading her after the General to the war room. The General took his seat at the head of the table, next to Elizabeth while other high-ranking officials took their seats.

Elizabeth glared daggers across the table at Emily. It was no secret that she was wishing they were alone at the moment so that she could really give her daughter a piece of her mind. Their bitter disagreement had to be put on hold for the moment until a time when it could be resolved without a killer interrupting.

The General began by questioning Elizabeth, but it soon became clear that she was going to be little to no help, though it was unclear whether it was an active hindrance on her part or just a general disregard towards details pertaining to others.

When it was painfully obvious that she wasn't about to remember anything pertinent and she certainly wasn't going to give up the amulet, they were left with little recourse... Their manpower was divided to search the castle, figuring that the murderer couldn't have time to depart.

"Help!" a voice shrieked down the hall, up from the basement where the servants were housed, "Help, please!"

Instantly, everyone glanced up from the blueprints of the castle they were studying, exchanging questioning looks. "It's coming from the servant's hallway," Emily said, brows knitting in worry.

"Emily, women are to be seen, not heard," Elizabeth scolded. Derek shot her a glare and opened his mouth to retort.

Before he could, though, General Hotchner interrupted, ordering some of his trusted guards to stay in the war room and guard Elizabeth and Emily while he and Derek went to investigate. Once again, Derek, opened his mouth to protest and once again, he was too slow. This time Emily spoke first, "No, I'm not staying here with _her_."

The General glanced from Elizabeth to Emily, the air between them practically crackling with tension, then finally, he looked to Derek, his expression making it very clear that Emily would be left without him over his dead body. The General sighed concedingly, gesturing for Derek and Emily to follow him out of the room.

They followed the cries for help, the desperate pleas getting louder the further into the bowels of the castle they travelled until they almost walked headlong into a nearly hysterical Jennifer as she sprinted through the halls towards them. Emily grabbed her by the shoulders, stopping her from falling as she stumbled backwards, dazed. "Jennifer! It's Emily; calm down," she said gently, looking her in the eyes, "What happened?"

"I...umm... I saw... It was..." She shook her head, hyperventilating. Despite all Emily's coaxing, she couldn't get more than a gesture to continue down the hall in the direction from which she had come. After that, she refused to leave her side, clutching Emily's hand as if it were her only lifeline.

The futher they went, there came an increasingly pungent aroma of blood, just as that which heralded the first murder. It soon became apparent why as Emily helped, stutter-stepping backwards her foot sticky from the blood pool the low light had caused her to inadvertently step in.

The source of the blood was a woman's body splayed on the floor haphazardly as a man crouched over her, clothes and hands covered in blood. Before anyone else had even a split second in which to react, Derek had launched himself across the few feet separating them, tackling the man to the floor.

Instantly, the two men tussled for control, each trying to get the upper hand. "Derek!" Emily cried, reaching an arm out towards him as she went to help him, but she didn't get far, finding herself held back by General Hotchner.

"He can protect himself, you'll only get hurt," he said in response to the glare she shot him. He looked down at her, a tender expression on his face as if he were struggling not to lean down and kiss her. She wrenched her arm out of his grip and took several steps out of his reach.

"What the hell are you doing?" the man snapped as he managed to pin Derek to the ground.

"Think you can get away with murder?" Derek growled through gritted teeth, "Think you can threaten my family, reveal secrets that are none of your business just to get some worhtless trinket? Well, you have crossed me for the last time..."

"You think _I_ am the killer?" the stranger asked incredulously.

"Well, if you aren't, then what are you doing astride the second victim, covered in her blood?" the General asked pointedly.

"Trying to save her! I was putting pressure on the bleeding," he replied as if it should have been obvious. "Until you so brutally attacked me; thanks to which she will likely _die_..."

Derek glared distrustfully at him, still struggling to free himself from the older man's grip. "Don't trust him, sir! He's our only suspect, you can't let him get away!"

The General glanced between the two grappling men as if debating. The tense silence, aside from the grunting from the midst of the struggle was interrupted suddenly by a faint rasping noise. Emily looked to see if anyone else had heard, but the men were all too preoccupied. "Silence!" she ordered, causing them to freeze.

"It...wasn't him..." came the rasping a second time. "He...didn't... Not...killer..." Loss of blood and her struggle for breath seemed to be making speech difficult. The stranger managed to disentangle himself from Derek, crawling back to the dying woman's side. His hands once again moved to cover her wounds, but it was too late. Her death rattle escaped between her lips and she was gone.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the three men sized each other up, obviously deciding who could be trusted. At last, the stranger extended his hand. "David Rossi, author."

Reluctantly, General Hotchner took his hand and shook it. "Did you see the killer?" he asked sharply, rather than make any sort of introduction in return.

He shook his head. "I arrived too late to see the perpetrator. However, I have been doing some research into historical feuds and..."

General Hotchner waved him off, clearly silencing him, talking over him before he'd had a chance to protest. "Lieutenant, we need Doctor Reid here post-haste."

...

"I'm telling you, if anyone will know, it's Penelope," Emily assured, leading the motley crew that had been accumulated over the evening. From the way the flickering light from the candle in her hand fell on the faces of her followers, she knew that the majority of them had little to no faith in her, even if she held more power than the five of them combined. "She knows the library better than anyone, she'll know where to find the genealogy of any major clan."

She let them have their doubts, though, because Derek, at least, believed her and no one was foolish enough to speak out against something he was so protective of.

They barely so much as stepped inside the cavernous room, when they were startled by a voice warning, "You had better not be bringing an open flame near my books..."

"Don't worry, Penelope," Emily laughed, "It's covered."

"Oh, it's just you, Emily... I know you'd never hurt my babies." A woman in a bright dress appeared from behind a wall of shelves. "What can I do for you, lovey?"

"We need to know the last surviving heir to the clan of our rivals. I'm sure you've heard word of..."

"The murders? Yeah," she preemptively answered. "Well, you, my dear, are in luck. I was doing a little digging, just in case you needed my genius...and I came across this."

Emily took the book Penelope proffered, flipping through to a marked page. Her brows knit as her gaze flicked across the page. Frowning, she looked up, then passed the book to Derek. The book travelled from one to the next, each bearing the same look of puzzlement.

"How can he just have disappeared?" General Hotchner eventually voiced what they all were thinking. "Could he have died?"

Penelope adamantly shook her head. "Absolutely not. George Foyet is still alive or there would be some record of it."

"If he is still alive," David said, the degree of derision in his tone making it clear that he didn't think he was, "Then what has happened to him that there is not even a record in existence?"  
"He is operating under some assumed identity," Penelope answered without hesitation. "Though, there is no way to know what that might be..." she admitted regretfully.

"What good is that going to do us?" Dr. Reid questioned. "Even if we know his name, how does that help us to find him?"

There were several long moments of contemplative silence, each trying to solve the riddle of pieces they had been left. "Do we know what he looks like?" Jennifer said meekly, surprising everyone. Seeing the six pairs of eyes turned her way, she retreated into herself shyly, but elaborated nonetheless, "Someone here tonight has to have seen him. If we can have every guest in attendance aware of whom they should looking for, he will have no way to escape and a much more difficult time getting victims alone..."

Even if the idea had come from a castle servant, there was no denying it was a good one. They turned to Penelope, who was already gone; she could be heard muttering to herself as she danced between the shelves, pulling books into her arms. Stacking them on a vast table before them, she flipped through the first to a print of an old oil painting. She began sketching something out on a weathered piece of parchment that appeared to contain notes hurriedly scrawled as she came across them in her research.

Pages were turned at an almost inhuman speed as she effortlessly found whatever it was she required. They all stood watching her, transfixed by her skill, hardly even realizing when she turned the paper towards them with a rough, albeit realistically detailed, rendering of a face. "This is an approximation of what George Foyet would look like today."

"No." Emily shook her head, causing everyone's attention to turn this time to focus on her. "That's Peter Rhea. He's the local physician."

"Emily, what are you talking about?" Derek asked, confused. He gently turned her to look at him. "Dr. Reid is the castle physician, _your_ physician. Why would you have seen the town physician?"

"I'm not ignorant of what goes on in within the castle. Everyone reports back to Mother, everyone in her employ is in her pocket because she has filled them so completely with the fear of God that they will do anything they can to make her like them in the hopes that she won't fire them, much less have them locked in a dungeon to starve. If I had gone to Dr. Reid under the suspicion that I was with child, the news would have reached Mother's ears with unholy speed. You saw how she reacted when she heard..."

As she trailed off, he once again gave her that heart-wrenching look of sadness and hurt, but he did not seem to dwell, thinking aloud, "So, George Foyet is posing as the town's physician...but why? What does he gain from this?"

"Information of some kind?" David suggested, "The town is a bustling rumor mill. If he hoped to find some leverage with which to convince Madam Prentiss to exchange the amulet, he would have to learn it somehow that would not raise suspicion."

"Perhaps he somehow learned of my secret visits to town and had the intention of taking me hostage, under the impression that if anything were to be more valuable than a priceless heirloom to Mother, it would be the life of her own child..." Emily said with a snort of laughter, clearly doubting the value of her life in her mother's eyes.

"Either way," the General said, "He is in the castle now and he is not going to rest until he has the amulet in his hands, even if that means killing everyone in the castle. He has fortune on his side tonight – we have nowhere to go as the storm has made the only way off the property completely impassable. We have no choice but to go searching for him."

...

"Are you angry with me?" Emily asked quietly, almost guiltily as Derek accompanied her to her chambers in search of the final piece necessary for the plan.

He knew full well to what she was referring, but he nonetheless asked, "Why would I be angry with you?"

"Because I didn't tell you I was seeing the physician in town, much less _why_ I was seeing him..."

"I'm not angry," he replied flatly. But the slight pause before he answered told her more than enough.

"We have a life here; a secret life, but a good one nonetheless. I could not have you give that up for nothing, I had to be sure of the pregnancy...and I knew that if you knew I was seeing a physician, you would never rest until you knew why."

"Is it wrong to care about you?" he inquired, obviously emotionally bruised, "Is it wrong to want to protect you and our family?"

"No, but..."

Derek shook his head. "We shouldn't have been here. This shouldn't have happened."

Emily huffed a little annoyed breath, her patience shortening. "Are you insinuating that this is my fault because I refused to leave on your terms? Because I was only doing that to _protect_ us. I know what would have drawn her suspicion..."

But they were both much too stubborn to admit that the other person was right, at least not in the heat of the moment. They spent the remainder of the stair climb in frosty silence. As they reached her chamber door, Emily stepped halfway inside before he could react. With a glance over her shoulder, she ordered, "Stand guard out here," then slammed the door behind her.

Scarcely minutes had passed before she emerged in possession of an antique necklance and a much cooler head. "Derek?" she called, glancing first one way and then the other, seeing no sign of him. She pursed her lips worriedly when she got no response, then called his name louder, but to no avail.

This wasn't like him at all, even if he was upset with her. Even if all his romantic feelings towards her, all his sense of familial obligation towards their child evaporated, he was still charged with the duty of protecting her at all costs and he did not take his responsibilities as a soldier lightly. No, it would take something of a seriously drastic nature to just cause him to vanish.

She was left with only one assumption...the killer had him hostage, if he hadn't already been left for dead.

The next thing she remembered was nearly toppling into Penelope as she sprinted into the library, internally panicking. "Slow down, girl," Penelope scolded, gripping her shoulders, "Where is the fire?"

"Der...Derek," she huffed, out of breath, "He... Gone..." The words seemed to make her nearly hysterical as she fought back tears, her thoughts stalling in their tracks.

Dr. Reid hurried over, followed shortly by the remainder of the group. He sat her down, urging her to breathe deeply and calm herself. His soothing was interrupted by General Hotchner demanding, "Do you have the decoy?"

Still fighting for breath, she pulled the charm from inside the bodice of the dress, tugging the chain from around her neck. The General plucked it from her palm and turned to return to his planning with David, but was halted in his tracks as Emily once again found her voice, "George Foyet has Derek..."

For a moment of stunned, disbelieving silence, Emily almost thought General Hotchner was going to leave Derek to whatever fate happened to be awaiting him at the hands of George Foyet and eliminate his so-called competition for her hand...

But, just as she was about to pull him aside and pull rank on him, he finally spoke up, "We don't have long to act, we know George Foyet works quickly. We need to get Madam Prentiss to reach out to him."

"She's not going to be happy with that," Jennifer voiced the obvious, "Forgive my boldness."

"There is no other way," David said, "Men such as him cannot see any other way as being right but their own. We have to give him his way or at least let him think he's getting it."

"Is anyone else starting to get a very bad feeling about this?" Penelope muttered under her breath.

...

"I can't do it, I can't..." Emily shook her head, not believing the words even as they came out of her mouth. "Derek would never let me go toe to toe with a known killer, certainly not when he's in no position to protect me."

"Miss Prentiss..." David started to say, but she didn't give him the chance.

"I know. I know, I know, I _know_," Emily snapped, tossing her hands in the air aggravatedly. "I am completely aware of the situation. This is the only option, I get it. But I don't think you understand what you're asking of me... Did you miss the chapter of this saga where that charming sir announced to the castle at large that I'm with child?"

They all took the question to be rhetorical, even if it hadn't been intended as such. "We're all going to be there on the roof with you should things take a turn for the worse, but we must stay hidden from his view or there is no tell what he might do, but it would undoubtedly endanger Lieutenant Morgan further," General Hotchner directed.

Emily nodded, only half absorbing what he was telling her...everything beyond the fact that she would essentially be well and truely alone went entirely unheard. She'd always wished to be left to herself, for even five minutes, but all her life, there had constantly been someone else there, someone ready to stand between her and any threat against her. She wasn't afraid to do what she had to in order to save the life of the one she loved because wasn't a coward by any stretch of the imagination – she had never asked that anyone lay their life on the line for her – but that didn't make it any less disconcerting to face off with someone who had brutally and repeatedly stabbed at least two people...

She showed the General, David, and Dr. Reid where the entrance to the secret roof-top passage was hidden behind the tapestry depicting the crucifixion of Christ, then she continued on to the main staircase, hoping for all she was worth that George Foyet was either unaware of the secret staircase or hadn't considered her using it.

Stepping out between the stone turrets, it took her a moment or two to regain her bearings amidst the pitch darkness and the chaos of the still raging storm. The weak beam of her naptha lamp revealed no signs of anything living aside from herself and she began to wonder if they hadn't been tricked.

Despite the worry pounding in her chest that the mouse was at play while the cats were away, she had to ensure that he wasn't just hiding, trying to gain the element of surprise. Stepping to the very edge of the roof, she extended her arm over the ledge, the chain of the necklace balled in her fist. "Show yourself or I drop it," she threatened. "Don't do anything foolish or you shall never see the amulet again."

From the shadows, emerged an almost ghastly pale face, grinning disconcertingly. "I _knew_ I liked you, Emily Anne Prentiss..." he chuckled. "She's a little spitfire, isn't she, Derek?" he taunted, pulling his hostage into the small spot of light. "I can understand why you wanted to lay with her...but did you really have to _marry_ her? She's got to be easier than that..."

Derek made a low growling sound, deep in his throat, not about to stand idly by as someone spoke ill of his wife, even if he was bound at the wrists and ankles. But George Foyet only laughed to himself, seeming thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Derek!" Emily cried, seeing his swollen and bloodied face, his mouth gagged. She made to take a step forwards, but that seemed to be what George Foyet had been waiting for...

Emily froze mid-stride as a knife blade came to press against Derek's throat. "One step closer and I shall spill his blood atop your family castle," he narrated unnecessarily. "Show me the amulet."

Emily did as she was told, bringing the chain within the glow of the lamp for him to examine. She held her breath as he studied it for several moments – this was what would be the downfall of their plan and there was no way to tell when it would be set off.

As if satisfied, he turned back to Derek. "What do you know...she must _really_love you. The only thing her family owns of any real value and she just traded it to me for your life. Personally, I wouldn't say your simple soldier's existence is worth even the chain... Though, I suppose one man's trash is another man's treasure."

"Stop it!" Emily yelled above the wind. "Let him go! That was the deal!"

"I don't think so, my love. First, you must return the amulet to me and once it is again in my possession, then and only then, is he free to go."

"And if I don't agree?"

George Foyet shrugged. "Fine. Have it your way." He pressed the blade tighter against Derek's neck, a small smear of blood appearing as the skin was broken.

"No!" she inevitably cried out, not daring to call his bluff.

"I thought as much. Since I am a fair man, though, I will cut his ankle bindings first. Then, you will walk over to me and hand me the amulet. Then, you are free to make a run for it before I change my mind."

Emily attempted to remain calm even as her heart began beating for all it was worth, seemingly attempting to escape from her chest. They would only have split seconds in which to make their escape before George Foyet realized that he had been tricked; Derek had to have figured out the plan, but there was no telling whether he was in any condition to help her act on it.  
There was no other choice, though, so she began the perilous dead man's walk towards George Foyet. She tried not to think of it in that sense, though; she kept herself focused on Derek and getting him back.

Her feet slipped beneath her on the rain-slicked stones and she began to doubt if she was going to make it that far before falling to her death, but a hand reached out to catch her, her shaking fingers curling around the warm, wet palm. For a moment, she dared to hope it was Derek before reality caught up with her and she realized she was holding hands with _him_, that monster...

Snatching her hand back as if scalded, she pulled the necklace from the pocket in her gown, letting him see before pressing it into his palm. She readied herself to run and could practically feel the bunching energy of Derek doing the same beside her when, as if on cue, the storm once again came to life and blew out the sputtering flame of the naphtha lamp.

Everyone froze, not daring to move for fear of taking a step in the wrong direction and falling to certain death. Emily wondered to herself what had become of the three men, at least one of whom should have another light. She only had a few moments in which to wonder, though, before a loud scuffle caught her attention.

Damp feet smacked against the stone, grunts and groans were emitted as two or more people struggled, voices sounded unintelligibly in the confusion. Then, she felt George Foyet's hand slip away from hers, amulet still in his possession and she began to wonder if he was attempting to have his cake and eat it to. She flung an arm out, searching for Derek's presence, her heart sinking as nothing but electrically charged air slid across her palm...until she finally connected to a warm body, earning a muffled grunt of pain in response.

A nervous laugh escaped her lips in relief and she pulled him closer, though whether for his protection or her comfort, she couldn't be sure. Her hands wandered blindly over his body, knowing its landscape well enough to feel for wounds without any light at all. Finally comforted that he suffered little more than meager scrapes, she pulled him in for a kiss, not caring in the least what was going on around them and if anyone could see.

The bolt of lightening that rent the sky just then could not have had better timing had it been choreographed for a production of William Shakepeare's controversial new play about the Scottish king... The couple pulled apart in alarm, just in time to see a small pale form launch itself at George Foyet, sending the both of them over the wall with a wail.

Even though the noise of the landing could not be heard, there could be no doubt that neither had survived. "What just happened?" Derek asked as Emily removed his gag, shooting a look of confusion to the three men who had just joined them. He worked out something in his mind, then became impossibly more puzzled. "Who was that?"

Evidently, they had not bothered to ask themselves that question because they too looked from one to the other before wearing matching expressions to Derek's. The answer came in the form of an out of breath Penelope popping her head outside. "Has anyone seen Jennifer? She was with me a moment ago, then she said you had forgotten something..."


End file.
